


The Sworde and The Baer

by Tobi_Boone



Category: Willow (1988)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4971970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobi_Boone/pseuds/Tobi_Boone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Airk Thaughbaer is a simple footman in Galladoorn's army and it looks like he's never going to amount to much until a young mercenary is recruited and put under his charge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How long had it been since I watched this movie? I can't even tell you, but for some bizarre reason that I can't even begin to explain I sat back and laughed to myself 'he thought you /were/ a woman, Airk!'. I wonder, what exactly had Madmartigan meant by that and why had they, the General and a sellsword, ever crossed paths? ((Please also take note, the title is spelled that way on purpose))

Airk Thaughbaer stood at attention as a man with shoulder-length black hair, grubby clothes and a smile was brought in by the guards. The ruler of Galladoorn, King Dynvir leaned forward and cocked a gray eyebrow,

“What is the meaning of this, Captain Hoth?”

A middle-aged soldier takes off his helmet and bows to the King, “My Lord, we found him trying to get through the west gate. We think he may have treacherous intent.”

“'Treacherous intent'?” The man in shackles laughs and cocks his head to the side, still smiling, “Me? No! I was in the neighborhood, you see and I thought that perhaps the King would like to hire the world's greatest swordsman.”

There was a ripple of laughter and Airk couldn't help but smile, the man was clearly very serious and even looked a little confused by the laughter. King Dynvir stood, crossing his arms in front of his chest,

“If you are the world's greatest swordsman, where is your sword?”

The man grimaced, “I . . . I had it a moment ago.”

“It's here, My Lord, rather sad piece of rusted steel, if you want my opinion.” The Captain stepped up holding an unsheathed sword that indeed had a layer of rust along the possibly once-magnificent blade, the hilt's bindings had come undone and the setting for the pommel was bare.

The king took the blade and shook his head, “Might as well throw it out, not worth-”

“NO!”

Airk blinked and looked at the man as did everyone in the room. The king hefted the blade and turned it over,

“No? And why not? One good swing and it'll shatter into a thousand pieces.”

The man bit his lip and shifted his weight slightly, “It is . . . _was_ my father's blade and I'd like to keep it, if it's all the same to you.”

Airk looked between the man and the king then he stepped forward, “M-My Lord?”

The king glanced at Airk and the blonde could see his captain giving him a disapproving look. King Dynvir handed the sword back to the captain and turned to be facing Airk,

“Something on your mind . . . ?”

“Thaughbaer, My Lord, Airk Thaughbaer.” Arik shifted his weight a little nervously.

Captain Hoth's brow was furrowed as he stepped forward, “I think you're out of line, Thaughbaer-”

“No, let the lad speak.” The king held up a hand for quiet.

“It's just that, well, if he is as good as he boasts, then why not recruit him? See what he can do with a real sword and if he's found wanting, then you aren't out anything.” Airk grimaced.

The man with the rusted sword blinked at Airk and smiled widely, “Absolutely! Now there's a man with a sound head on his shoulders, I-”

Captain Hoth swatted him upside the head, “The first thing you'll learn is respect and to hold your tongue!”

Airk blushed a little under the stranger's praise.

“Alright, Thaughbaer, he'll be under your charge then, if you have such confidence in him.” The king smirked, “Have fun.”

* * *

The first thing Airk learned about Madmartigan (the man with the rusted sword) was that Airk wished he hadn't removed the shackles as soon as they fell off.

“So! Well, isn't this fun?” Madmartigan laughed as he looked around and immediately flopped onto Airk's bunk, “And you're to be my babysitter?”

Airk blinked and shook his head, “No, I help train recruits and . . . that's my bunk.”

Madmartigan tilted his head to the side and smirked, “Well, now it's our bunk.”

Airk opened his mouth to argue but then Madmartigan hopped up again and picked up a helmet from a stand, he ran his fingers over the horsehair plume at the top and smiled,

“This yours?”

“No.” Airk quickly grabbed the helmet and set it on the stand gently, “Just stop touching things.”

Madmartigan put his hands on his hips and leaned forward, “So. When do we eat?”

“Supper was two hours ago.” Airk muttered, unstrapping his scabbard and hung it on a peg then took his sword and set it carefully on another pair of pegs in the wall.

Madmartigan's eyes widened, “What? I missed food? Ah, damn!”

“Well I don't know what to tell you.” Airk started to take off his armor only to grimace, it was heavy and usually he had a squire or two to help him, but there would likely be no one around at this hour, he looked at Madmartigan and licked his lips, “Help me with this, will you?”

Madmartigan cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, “I don't know, will I?”

“Come on, I want out of this armor.” Airk grit his teeth, “I can't do it by myself.”

“Hmm,” Madmartigan moved around Airk, “You're right, that looks like some clunky, heavy, wholly uncomfy armor.”

Airk tried to track the man's movements without turning around, “Yes . . . “

“Well, here's the deal, you get me some vittles and I'll get out out of that armor.” Madmartigan smirked and put his hands on the side-clasps of the breastplate.

“Vittles?” Airk's brow furrowed.

“Victuals, provisions, sustenance, yanno, _food_.” Madmartigan shrugged.

“You just want food?” Airk blinked as he heard the two clasps click open and Madmartigan was carefully pulling the metal plate off.

“Yes, haven't eaten in nearly four days, kinda getting weak in the knees, yanno?”

Next went Airk's pauldrons, gauntlets and his greaves, he sighed in relief when finally the chainmail shirt was lifted over his head and he could wriggle out of the heavy wool padding,

“That's better.” He murmured, rubbing life into his sore back and thighs, “Much obliged.”

“You're welcome, now, feed me.” Madmartigan crossed his arms and pursed his lips.

“Alright, alright, I'll be right back, just don't touch anything and don't leave the room, alright?”

Madmartigan smiled widely and held up a hand, “You have my word.”

Airk wanted to snark that he didn't know what good a ruffian's word of honor was but he bit it back and left the room.

* * *

Airk returned with a heel of bread, some cheese and dried beef. He nudged the door open with his foot and was about to announce his presence only to almost drop the tray he was holding.

“Hey, food!”

Madmartigan was lounging back in a tub of water with his clothes strewn about, his long hair tied up and all Airk could think was that that was  _his_ bathwater, of course this thought only lasted a moment as Madmartigan got out of the tub and sauntered over, relieving Airk of his tray and sitting at the small table in one corner of the room,

“Oh, and the water's still hot if you want a bath. Nice little boys brought it in and told me to not touch the water but then I've never been one to listen to anyone when I want something.”

Airk blinked at the man and huffed, he slowly went to a chest set in front of his bed and started to disrobe only to halt with his shirt halfway over his head, he glanced over at Madmartigan and glowered,

“Do you mind?”

“Nope.” Madmartigan took another bite of bread and cheese and watched Airk with his cheeks puffed out.

Airk blushed and growled to himself, pointedly pulling his shirt off and chucking it to the floor, he was just undoing the ties of his pants when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Airk leaped away and stared incredulously as Madmartigan put more food in his mouth,

“What are you doing?” Airk demanded.

“Mmph mmffft mmeph?” Madmartigan pointed at Airk's shoulder.

Airk blinked and glanced over his shoulder at the tattoo, “Oh, that? It's my family crest, a dire bear with a sword.”

The blonde smirked proudly when he saw that Madmartigan had no such sign of kith and kin. Madmartigan blinked then laughed, showing Airk half-chewed mouthfuls of food,

“Looks like a tubby teddy and a pig-sticker!”

Airk scowled and shoved Madmartigan back toward the table, “Will you put some clothes on?”

“ _Put some clothes on!_ Sheesh, you sound like my mother!” Madmartigan laughed again but reached into the chest and pulled out a pair of pants.

“Hey, those are mine!” Airk reached for them only for Madmartigan to duck back several steps.

“Look . . . what's your name again?”

“Airk, Airk Thaughbaer!” Airk snapped.

“Right, _Airk_ , you really don't want me to put my old clothes back on, trust me. I came through the swamp in those. Go ahead, pick 'em up and take a good long whiff.” Madmartigan pulled Airk's pants up his legs and tied them.

Airk huffed and angrily dropped his pants and went to get in the tub, glaring over at Madmartigan,

“First you're touching all my things then you take my bath and now my pants . . . “

“Sorry, Airk, did you say something?” Madmartigan leaned over Airk and smirked.

“Will you just go finish your food?” Airk swatted at the dark-haired man and went about washing the sweat of the day off.

* * *

Airk was just getting ready to go to sleep when he had to groan again, “What are you d-”

“Our bunk, remember?” Madmartigan stretched out under the blankets and rolled onto his side, patting the space next to him, “Come to bed, Airy.”

Airk's face became bright red with either anger or embarrassment, he wasn't sure as he was feeling both very strongly,

“You're supposed to go and sleep with the other squires!”

“Yes, but that would be cold and lonely and I wouldn't know anyone!” Madmartigan whined.

“ _I_ don't know _you_!” Airk snapped.

Madmartigan blinked then sat up in the bed, “My name is Madmartigan, I'm the son of the former best swordsmen in the world, my sword's name is Bethernot and I like sweets.”

Airk blinked in confusion, “What?”

“There, now you know all sorts of things about me, Airy. Now come to bed.” Madmartigan smiled but it was small and he shifted closer to the wall.

Airk blinked slowly and sighed, “Fine, I'm too tired to care at this point.”

He climbed into the bed and laid down rigidly next to Madmartigan, glaring up at the ceiling even after the candle on the bedside table had been snuffed out and all was dark.

“So what kind of name is 'Madmartigan', anyway?”

He heard and felt Madmartigan shift closer to him, “It's my name.”

Airk rolled his eyes and sighed, “Guess I'm stuck with you, aren't I?”

“Just until you can't stand me anymore, yeah.” Madmartigan scooted closer again and shivered, “I'm cold . . . winter sure is a bitch in this country, ain't it?”

Airk was about to shift away but he was running out of bed, “ . . . I suppose.”

Madmartigan huffed, “Airk, I'm  _cold,_ stop running away.”

Airk blinked, “I'm not ru-”

Madmartigan moved again and put an arm around Airk's waist, hugging him tightly, “Ah, that's better.”

“What're you-?” Airk almost leapt out of his skin at the proximity but then he settled back on the bed with a resigned groan, “Fine, alright, fine!”

Madmartigan chuckled in Airk's ear, “You're gonna be my best friend, I knew it the second I saw you.”

Airk closed his eyes and huffed, “Just shut up and let me sleep.”

“Alright, best pal.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“So!”

Airk groaned as he was immediately weighed down by that insufferable man-child, Madmartigan, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“What do we do first? Who do we fight?” Madmartigan grinned widely.

Airk blinked, “There's more to being one of the guards than fighting, you know.”

“There is?” Madmartigan tilted his head and tried to steer them back to the mess hall.

“Madmartigan, we already ate.” Airk muttered, tugging out of the dark-haired swordsman's grasp, "You have to wait to eat again."

“Huh? What gave you the idea that I even want to eat again? I think you're getting delusional, Airy.”

Airk rolled his eyes, “C'mon, we have work to do!”

“Work?” Madmartigan blinked in disappointment and trotted after the blonde, “What kind of work? And when do I get a sword? And how soon before we-”

“Alright, that's enough! Stop talking for maybe a minute!” Airk snapped, rubbing his temples, he led the way to the stables and handed Madmartigan a pitchfork.

“What's this for?” Madmartigan stared at it.

“What's it look like it's for? Pitching hay and things, you ingrate.” Airk pointed to several piles horse dung.

“What?” Madmartigan's eyes widened, “Don't you have some pages or squires to do this?”

Airk's eyebrow rose, “Yes.”

“Then why don't you-” Madmartigan blinked then his eyes narrowed, “Oh.”

“Mhm.” Airk smiled.

“Well, what are you going to do?” The 'swordsman' pouted and started to muck out the stall.

“Supervise you.” Airk chuckled, sitting back on a stack of hay.

Madmartigan growled and muttered under his breath but he did the work while Airk tended to the horses (he didn't have the heart to just sit around and do nothing while the other man worked) and before long they were both tired and Madmartigan had pulled his tunic off, flopping down in some clean straw.

“You're a sadist.” He muttered.

“No, I'm a soldier and I have duties.”

“That you make me do.” Madmartigan smiled over at Airk.

Airk smiled and shook his head, “Well, to be honest, that wasn't my job.”

Madmartigan sat up, “What?”

“I owed one of the stableboy's a favor. You just did his job.” Airk had to leap away when Madmartigan rushed toward him, “Hey!”

“You complete, total ass!” Madmartigan got up, glaring at the blonde.

Airk laughed, stepping back again, his hands up like he was waiting for another attack, “What's the matter, Marty? Don't like getting your pretty hands dirty?”

“Oh, I'll show you what my 'pretty' hands can do!” Madmartigan laughed and grabbed Airk, trying to knock him over but the blonde was too big, he stepped back and growled, “Alright . . . “

Airk threw his head back and laughed, lifting Madmartigan up and chucked him into the straw, “You'll have to try harder than that!”

“Give me a sword and you won't be able to beat me.” The swordsman muttered, sitting up angrily.

Airk leaned down and patted Madmartigan's cheek, “Not til your older, Marty.”

“Older? I'm nineteen!” Madmartigan brushed Airk's hand away.

“And that means you're still two years younger than me.” Airk tilted his head slightly.

Madmartigan huffed and stood up, “Well . . . now what?”

“Now, you show me what it is that makes you the world's greatest swordsman.” Airk turned to leave the stable with Madmartigan tripping behind him to catch up and pull on his tunic.

* * *

Airk felt sweat rolling down the side of his face and his arms felt like they were going to fall off, he grit his teeth and parried another blow.

“Had enough yet?” Madmartigan grinned from across their crossed blades.

“Yes, that's enough.” Airk shook his head and stepped back, “Well, I'd be lying if I didn't say I was impressed.”

Madmartigan grinned widely and twirled the sword in his hand, “Of course, I told you I'm-”

“Yes, yes, the greatest swordsman in the world, I get it.” Airk shook his and stretched, handing the practice sword to a waiting page.

“So when do we start the real work? When do we fight? I-”

“Will never see a battlefield if I can help it.”

The two young men turned to see Captain Hoth coming into the courtyard. Airk blinked,

“Sir, he's actually pretty good, I-”

“Will hold your tongue if you know what's good for you, Thaughbaer!” Hoth snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

Madmartigan threw down the practice sword he'd been using, “Then what's the point of me being here if you won't let me fight!”

“Be quiet, you miserable cur!” Hoth shouted, turning on Airk, “Thaughbaer, you are treading on dangerous grounds, getting the king to allow this ruffian in our walls when he should be carted to the prison mines! What were you thinking?”

Airk swallowed and then drew himself up, “I was thinking that he deserved a chance.”

Madmartigan's eyes widened slightly and he looked between Captain Hoth and Airk.

Hoth snorted and shook his head, “Then it's on your head, Thaughbaer, one cock-up with this dog and you can consider yourself out of the royal guard and you'll never make it to the Wall. Am I understood?”

Airk swallowed, “Yes, sir.”

Hoth turned and strode away, Madmartigan blinked slowly and moved to stand next to Airk,

“ . . . what does he mean 'the Wall'?”

“It's what we call the front of the fighting with Nockmaar.” Airk murmured, “C'mon, I need a drink.”

Madmartigan hurried to keep pace with the blonde, “You think I deserve a chance?”

“Same as anyone else, yes.” Airk nodded and headed out the castle gates and into town.

Madmartigan bit his lip, putting a hand on Airk's shoulder, “Well, thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

* * *

Airk sat back, drinking slowly out of his pint while Madmartigan stared intently at him over the rim of his own cup.

“What?” Airk asked, putting his cup down.

“Nothing . . . “

“You've been staring at me since we sat down, Marty.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Because your name is stupidly long.”

“Well your name is stupidly short.”

“My name is just fine!”

“Oh? Well mine is even better because it's twice your name's length!”

“The length of a name isn't as important as it's meaning.” Airk growled, glaring at Madmartigan.

“Alright then, what does 'Airk' mean?” Madmartigan challenged.

Airk blinked and sat back, “It means 'divine'.”

Madmartigan stared at him for a moment then started laughing, “Well isn't that sweet? Does your surname mean something equally flowery?”

“Shut up! Then what does 'Madmartigan' mean?”

The swordsman shrugged, “It doesn't technically mean anything.”

Airk blinked, “Why doesn't your name mean something? Names are supposed to have meaning.”

“Well, it means something to me.”

“Alright, then what does it mean to you?” Airk took another drink.

Madmartigan sat back, licking his upper lip and seemed to be thinking deeply then he leaned forward and put his arms on the table,

“It means . . . resourceful . . . strong . . . handsome.” Madmartigan grinned and lifted his cup as if toasting himself and took a drink.

“Oh really? You think you're handsome?” Airk chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, don't you think so?” Madmartigan pouted and tilted his head slightly.

Airk blinked and looked away, blushing, “Well . . . “

Madmartigan scooted closer to Airk, “Hmm? Don't you think I'm handsome?”

“Sure, Marty, you're downright pretty.” Airk muttered.

“Hehe well, you're pretty too, Airk.” Madmartigan stood up and waved for Airk to come with him, “C'mon, I'm sure you've got other menial tasks you want me to do.”

Airk smirked and got up, “Sure, I think I can find a few things to keep you busy.”

* * *

Airk stared out the window as snow started to fall on the ramparts and courtyard, it was so peaceful, hard to believe that several weeks had passed so that the squires and pages had to use push-brooms and spades to clear said ramparts . . . and that Madmartigan hadn't pissed Hoth off enough to get him chucked out on his ass . . .Hard to believe not a few leagues away there was a war going on . . . 

“Hey, what's with that look?”

Airk turned his head slightly as Madmartigan swaggered up to stand on the other side of the window, “What look?”

“You get this look on your face when you're thinking very deeply about something either dangerous or sad. So which is it?” Madmartigan murmured, putting his hands on the panes of glass, his dark eyes tracking snowflakes as they drifted by.

“ . . . just thinking about the war, about how I'm here and not there.”

Madmartigan blinked, tilting his head, “Wait, then why are you using the I'm-so-maudlin-about-what-I'm-thinking then? Isn't it a good thing you're here instead of on the Wall fighting the scum of Nockmaar?”

Airk turned and blinked incredulously at Madmartigan, “A good thi-? I should be out there, serving my king and fighting with my countrymen! What I should be doing isn't sitting around here on my arse training little boys to swing swords twice their size and babysitting you!”

Madmartigan blinked and scowled, “So it's too much to ask that you be safe and out of harm's way then?”

“That's not the point! I _want_ to fight! I joined the military for the honor of my father's name and my house! I joined to be a _soldier_ , Madmartigan! I'm not afraid of fighting the Nockmaars or even dying for my king!” Airk shouted, frustrated and angry enough to slam a fist into the stone wall and it took every ounce of control to not yelp and suck on his now-bruised knuckles.

Madmartigan stared at Airk then sighed, “I'm sorry you see being with me here in safety as the lesser option to almost certainly dying.”

Airk laughed bitterly, “I don't expect a mercenary to understand anything about loyalty or honor!”

Airk didn't see the fist coming for his face and was even more surprised to find himself sitting on the floor. Madmartigan glared down at Airk, he was breathing heavily and his eyes were narrowed to slits,

“Get one thing through your thick skull, Thaughbaer, while I don't care about your king or your country, I do care about you. Your the only friend I've ever had and because of that, I don't want you to go to the Wall, I don't want you to fight, and I don't want you to die. You die and there goes my room and board and any chance you may think I had.”

Airk opened his mouth to speak but Madmartigan was already hurrying down the corridor.

* * *

Airk opened the door to his and now Madmartigan's room, the dark-haired swordsman was already in bed, but he'd pulled the blankets all to his 'side' of the bed and was wrapped up in them. Airk sighed heavily, disrobing and leaning over him,

“You still mad at me?”

Madmartigan squeezed his eyes shut tighter and pulled the blankets up.

Airk sighed and moved to snuff out the candle but then stopped and stared at the opposite wall where his sword was hanging and below that were two empty pegs he'd had put in for Madmartigan's sword, they were bare.

“Marty, where's your sw-”

“Gone.”

“What?” Airk turned back around, despite how poorly kept the old sword was, Madmartigan had been as possessive of it like a dog with a bone.

“Bethernot's just gone, Airk, alright? I don't know where it is or who took it, but the bloody thing is gone.” Madmartigan's voice cracked slightly.

“Oh . . . I'm sorry.” Airk sat down, thinking about how Madmartigan had nothing but that sword to represent any family he may have or had, no family crest, no heirloom, just an old, battered sword.

“Wasn't much use anyway, useless, rusted hunk of m-m . . . metal . . . “

Airk turned and reached out his hand, touching Madmartigan's shoulder through the blankets, “Marty . . . about what you said earlier and what I said, I'm sorry about that too. You're my friend and I didn't mean that I wanted to leave you, I just really think I'd be more use at the front . . . I never meant to hurt you.”

Madmartigan slowly wriggled out of his blanket cocoon and looked at Airk, “You're all I have.”

Airk smiled and pulled his friend into a hug, “I'm not going anywhere, Marty and I'll find out who took Bethernot, we'll get it back. Now, can I please have some blankets before I freeze to death?”

Madmartigan looked down at all the blankets and laughed, “Oh, yeah, sure.”

Airk settled down next to Madmartigan, feeling the slimmer man tangle around him and shiver, “ . . . you'd really be that upset if I left?”

“Well, I have no favor for you to take with you, that's no way to send off my suitor.” Madmartigan chuckled.

“Suitor? What are you, a woman?” Airk laughed.

“Well you did say I'm pretty, but you're the woman here, Airk, yep.” Madmartigan smiled in the darkness, “Pouring out your feelings and bitching about random crap . . . I wonder, is it that time of month?”

“Alright, that's enough, Marty, go to sleep.” Airk muttered, swatting at the younger man.

“Aw, c'mon, where's your sense of humor?”

“Right where I left my patience, at the door with my boots.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Bitch.”

“ . . . alright, it's a draw.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Madmartigan's sword swung and hit its mark, “How much longer we gonna be doin' this, Airk?” He yelled across the field to his friend.

Airk snarled as a stray arrow ricocheted off his armor, “Til they're all dead! Isn't this what you wanted, Marty? Lots of fighting?”

“No, this is what _you_ wanted, war!” Madmartigan grit his teeth as he shoved a blade through the Nockmaarian soldier's shoulders.

“Just hold on until we get back to the fort, we'll be fine.” Airk assured, glancing over at his companion.

“Right, call the retreat?” Madmartigan turned to Airk then cried out as an enemy blade went into his side.

“Madmartigan!” Airk roared and barreled into the Nockmaarian, landing a vicious hilt-smash to the attacker's helmet, crumpling the nose-guard, “Hold on, I'm coming for you!”

Madmartigan groaned and tried to get up, gasping when the blonde lifted him to his feet and half-carried him toward the small fort they were defending. Airk ordered them to fall back, the gates closed then he helped Madmartigan inside and set him down on a chair,

“Are you alright?”

“What a stupid question, I took a- rgh!- a sword to my side!” Madmartigan snapped, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

“Sorry, sorry,” Airk muttered, quickly undoing the breastplate and chucking it away, pulling the shirt aside, looking at the wound and biting his lip as he put pressure on it, “You die on me, Marty, and I'll fucking kill you.”

Madmartigan cried out in pain, “You'd think after a few years you'd be happy about me maybe dying.”

“Shut up, Madmartigan, you stupid son of a pig.” Airk snapped, biting his lip as he leaned out of the doorway, “I need a healer over here!”

* * *

The fighting stopped as night fell and Airk was sitting staring at the sleeping Madmartigan while the healer packed up her things and scurried out. Airk chewed on one of his beard-braids fretfully and was about to get up and pace outside of the room when Madmartigan coughed and Airk quickly went to kneel next to the bed.

“Aw, were you . . . worried about . . . lil' ol' me?” Madmartigan smiled weakly, reaching up to shakily flick the braid out of Airk's mouth.

“Not at all.” Airk smiled a little.

“Heh . . . _liar_.” Madmartigan murmured, letting his hand flop down and took Airk's hand, squeezing it gently.

Airk leaned forward slightly, “How are you feeling? The healer didn't think you'd make it.”

Madmartigan chuckled and closed his eyes, “Feel like I've been stuck like a pig. It'll take more than that to kill me though, Airy, don't cry.”

“I'm not cr-“ Airk cleared his throat and looked away, “I'm a grown man and a soldier, I don't cry.”

Madmartigan chuckled softly, “Sure you do, you're such a . . . a _woman_.”

Airk glared off to the side, “Maybe I should have left you back there?”

“Aw, you know you love me.”

Airk's head snapped around to look at Madmartigan and the smile fell off the swordsman's face as they just stared at each other. Madmartigan swallowed and shifted his weight slightly, staring at their linked hands. Airk scooted slightly forward, his other hand reaching up and stroking Madmartigan's cheek.

“ . . . yes, I do, Marty.” Airk murmured.

Madmartigan's eyes closed then he smirked, “Was wondering how much longer you could hold out.”

Airk smiled and kissed his forehead before Madmartigan passed out again.

* * *

“Hold still, Marty.” Airk muttered, holding tightly onto the dark-haired man as the healer took the knife out of the embers.

Madmartigan bucked and shook his head, biting down harder on the rag in his mouth, his arms were wrapped tightly around Airk, fingers digging into the back of the blonde's shirt. The healer's assistant was sitting on Madmartigan's legs to keep him from moving too much as the knife was pressed to the open wound, cauterizing it. Airk closed his eyes and held on as Madmartigan howled around the rag and tossed his head then it was over and the healer was cleaning the knife,

“That should keep it from getting infected again and we'll be able to move him much sooner. He needs to be brought back to the castle, he's no use to you here in that condition.”

Airk was still holding onto Madmartigan and didn't spare her a glance, only nodding to show he'd heard then gesturing for them to leave. After they were left alone, Airk gently let go of Madmartigan and eased the rag out of his mouth,

“Easy, Marty . . . Let's get you in bed.”

Madmartigan grimaced as Airk lifted him up and carried him to the bed, “That was really not pleasant.”

“I'll bet. I suppose making you promise me you'll never get hurt again is out of the question, hm?” Airk carefully took a roll of bandages out and started to wind it around Madmartigan's midriff.

Madmartigan snorted and lifted his arms, “Yes.”

Aikr shook his head, “Then how about just being more careful?”

“I suppose I could do that.”

“They're going to send you back to the castle with the other wounded.” Airk murmured, pining the end of the bandage in place and easing Madmartigan back on the bed.

“Like hell they are, it's just a flesh wound, I'll be on my feet and back on the field in no time.” Madmartigan muttered and glared at the wall.

“ . . . Marty, you can't stay here, if the fort falls, they'll kill you.” Airk leaned over to try and catch Madmartigan's eye.

“They won't take the stupid fort, you're too stubborn to ever surrender it, but _if_ by some miracle those Nockmaarians manage to bull their way past your fat ass, then that means your dead and I don't really care after that point.” Madmartigan muttered, “No, I'd rather take the chance of you defending the fort against how I'll be treated if I go back to the castle with this wound.”

Airk smiled and sighed, settling down next to Madmartigan on the bed, “You're confidence in me is appreciated, Marty.”

“You're welcome.”

They were quiet for a moment then Madmartigan flopped an arm onto Airk's stomach, making the blonde exhale sharply in surprise. He turned his head to glare at Madmartigan but the other man was staring straight up at the ceiling.

“What was that for?” Airk asked, reaching down to shove Madmartigan's hand off but then said hand shot downward and grabbed his crotch, “Madmartigan, what are you-?”

Madmartigan rubbed his hand down on Airk's groin without replying.

Airk grit his teeth and tensed, “We shouldn't be doing this, you just got over being sick and what if someone comes looking for me?”

“If you're embarrassed to be seen with me then I suggest you get up and leave now.” Madmartigan muttered without looking at Airk.

“Marty, you're _still wounded_ , I don't want to open anything back u-”

“Airk, this is your last chance to leave.”

Airk didn't move, biting his lip viciously and taking a shaky breath, “I . . . I want to stay.”

“Good.”

Airk bit his lip harder as Madmartigan's hand slid into his leggings and stroked his rapidly-hardening cock. The blonde groaned and closed his eyes,

“Y-You're going to be the death of me.”

“I certainly hope so, I'd hate for anyone else to beat me to it.” Madmartigan murmured, fisting Airk's cock and rubbing a hand over his own groin.

Airk quickly moved his hand over to unlace Madmartigan's breeches, pulling them down enough to release the swordsman's rampant cock, he swallowed then got a hold of it and started to move his hand like Madmartigan was doing to his.

“You, uh, you do this before?” Airk panted, squeezing his eyes and pushing his hips up.

“Only on myself.” Madmartigan muttered, gasping as Airk squeezed the base of his cock, “Airy . . . Airy, you stupid blonde bastard with your stupid b-beard and your . . . nngh! Your tight ass and big-big cock!”

“I-Insulting me gets you off?” Airk panted, looking at the dark-haired man incredulously, “Really?”

“Maybe?” Madmartigan groaned as his side twinged but he ignored it, instead focusing on the fire pooling in his belly, “Oh, fuck, Airy . . . fuck!”

Airk moaned and arched his back, spilling his release onto Madmartigan's hand. The dark-haired man groaned as he watched and was soon coming, turning to press his face into Airk's shoulder and moan loudly.

When it was over, Airk quickly got up and retrieved a rag to clean them up with then settled next to Madmartigan,

“ . . . what brought that on?”

“Been wanting to get my hands on you for a while now.” Madmartigan murmured softly, tucking his face into Airk's shoulder.

“Oh . . . how long?”

“Since I saw you bathing the first night. Personally I thought you would jump my bones when you saw me naked but you took longer than expected.”

“Marty, did you really think I would just- I'm not that kind of man!” Airk grimaced.

“Yeah, that became extremely obvious, Airy, that's what I like about you . . . and what I hate.”

“What's that?” Airk rolled onto his side to be facing Madmartigan.

Madmartigan opened his eyes slightly and exhaled slowly, “You're almost _too_ good, Airy . . . you're virtuous, courageous, and good. You're . . . everything I'm not . . . “

“What are you talking about? I'm not better than anyone else, especially not you,” Airk propped himself on his elbow and reached out to push some of Madmartigan's long hair off his face, “I'm not-”

“Yes, Airk, you are.” Madmartigan carefully rolled onto his back, staring up at Airk, “You're the best of men, it isn't your fault that others don't see what I do, but it's true, out there in the field, you could have left me and run, I'm not one of the men under your command so you wouldn't have been at a loss, but you came for me. You risked everything for me, even in the beginning, you spoke up for me when no one else would. You're the reason I'm here right now at all, you're the one that gave me the chance. It makes me feel like I'm sitting in your shadow all the time because I'm a coward and a liar and a thief . . . a great swordsman, sure, but I'm not a knight or a soldier . . . I never will be and I'm scared.”

“Of what?”

“That I won't have the courage to stand by your side even when it matters most, that I'll see the overwhelming tide of darkness that threatens us even now and I'll turn-tail and run . . . that I won't come back for you . . . “ Madmartigan's face crumbled in despair, “Just like I abandoned my parents to their fate . . . I ran away when I should have stood and fought.”

Airk's eyes widened, “Your parents . . . ?”

“Bandits came to our home and my father tried to fight them but he was wounded and I took his sword and I ran. I didn't turn back and stop them, I didn't try to save my own parents! I-I . . . “ Madmartigan covered his face, “I ran away . . . “

Airk's eyes widened and he quickly laid back down and nuzzled Madmartigan's cheek with his own stubbly one, “Shh . . . Marty, you must have been a child at the time, you said yourself you've been on your own for years, I-”

“But what if it happens again?” Madmartigan put his hand on Airk's hand, clutching it tightly, “what if there's a threat again and I do the same thing? I abandon the person that means the world to me? What if I-”

“That _won't_ happen, Marty, you're older and a better swordsman and stronger now, you won't run away.” Airk murmured, kissing Madmartigan's cheek, “I know you won't.”

 

 

 


End file.
